Lord Linlithgow sighed deeply. “I agree. Gentlemen of the Cabinet, I put it to the vote, shall we establish a committee to evaluate the issues arising from the South African proposal and determine the measures necessary to support the relaunch of the sovereign? Those in favor, please raise their hands.”
There was a pause as Lord Linlithgow counted the votes. Nine in favor, seven against, one absent. “The motion is passed by a majority of two. This brings us back to the issue of the princely wealth. How do we make best use of that resource for the benefit of the country as a whole?”
“There is a point we must bear in mind here.” Sir Martyn spoke precisely and with great care. “We are talking about six hundred or so of the best educated and most influential families in India. They do have a useful amount of cash. In a wider context, many have positions of social and religious power and they certainly do have an interest in India’s future. The princely wealth will only be a brief palliative factor if we confiscate it in full, and once gone, it will never return. I would venture to suggest that rather than be used to defray the expenses of the Government, we should consider it as seed money India is going to need at some point.
“In this regard, I see three broad options open to us. One is that we confiscate the money outright or take possession of it via extraordinary taxation. Secondly, we can strip away the income that it generates and leave the capital in the hands of the princes. The third option is to harness that money to a useful end by coercing them to invest their capital in suitable enterprises and thus generate long term income.”
“Perhaps the sale of war bonds might be a good start.” Personally, Nehru was all for the outright confiscation solution leaving penniless princes sitting in the ruins of their moldering palaces, but he recognized that was impossible, now at least. “There has been the usual measure of patriotic fund raising by the princes anyway, so we add to it by converting their savings pool into war bonds. Perhaps some gentle words from this administration about how the evil Congress Party wishes to confiscate everything and only an enthusiastic response to the war bond drive can hold them at bay?”
A ripple of laughter ran around the conference room. Nehru smiled at the approving nods he received. “Of course, we must keep leaning on them to extract all the rainy day funds they have hidden away. A small tactful reminder now and then about how the hidden account with their name on it seems to have been overlooked in the latest bond drive? And always the reminder about how those Congress Party fanatics want to tax any private wealth over one rupee?”
This time, the laughter was a full-blooded guffaw in appreciation of Nehru’s excessively innocent expression. Sir Eric Haohoa took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. “I think this could work. The Princes will see that things could be a lot worse and at least the bonds will offer a reasonable rate of return. As the situation stabilizes, they will begin to look safer and safer. Who knows? They may even be grateful that we steered them to such a sound investment.”
“I think we have a workable plan here, gentlemen. I do not think this needs a vote, since it is already within the remit of the Treasury. Pandit, I note that Sir Richard Cardew has once again declined to honor us with his presence. Since he obviously does not share the opinions of this Cabinet and does not intend to take part in our deliberations, might I propose to you that he be invited to reconsider his position and Sir Eric Haohoa be appointed in his place?”
Pandit Nehru gave every appearance of thinking hard, although in reality the matter had already been discussed and decided before the meeting took place. “Sir Eric has spoken well concerning the complexities we face and the views of the Cabinet Office should be reflected here. Since Sir Richard has declined to do so, and if Sir Eric is prepared to take on this onerous responsibility, then the Cabinet would benefit from the change.”
“Well, Sir Eric? Would you assume the responsibilities of Cabinet Secretary?”
“Your trust honors me, Your Excellency. I would be delighted to do so.”
“It is intolerable; quite intolerable.” Every hair of Sir Richard Cardew’s moustache bristled with indignation. “First, His Excellency defies perfectly clear-cut and unambiguous instructions from DomCol. Then he appoints that damned communist Nehru as his deputy. It is too much I say.”
“And your removal as the Cabinet Secretary has nothing to do with your indignation, I suppose?” Lieutenant Colonel Pierce Harvey Garry took a sip of his whisky soda and was amused to note that his sarcasm went so far over Cardew’s head that it didn’t even ruffle his hair as it passed.
“Nothing at all. I made my position on this quite clear from the outset. DomCol is the ruling authority and our responsibility is to see that its commands are carried out. Why, your battalion was due to set sail for the Middle East, was it not?”
Garry glanced around. The orders that had assigned the Third Battalion (Duke of Cornwall’s Own) of the 7th Rajput Rifles to East Africa were supposed to be secret, although everybody knew what they were.
“We were, but those orders and our movement have been suspended. Can’t say I’m sorry. The sepoys are always a bit twitchy over crossing the sea. Loss of caste, you see.”
“Well, there you are then. Orders issued by the War Department through DomCol are just suspended without a by-your-leave to London. All because of some native superstitions. What more need I say?”
Hmm, we have some contradictions here, Garry thought. On one hand, complaining about India not dropping out of the war at London’s command and on the other complaining about stopping the movement of a battalion to the area where fighting is still going on. “Loss of caste is no superstition, Sir Richard, Its consequences are very real. My sepoys have every right to be concerned.”
“Well, if Linlithgow and those jumped-up guttersnipes Sharpe and Haohoa knew their duty, your Sepoys wouldn’t have to worry about losing their precious caste.”
Hang on a minute, old fellow. You’ve just finished criticizing the Marquess for staying the transit order. At least get your story straight. “Caste is precious to them. When the news spread that we were sailing for East Africa, we started to get a desertion problem. Not many, but a few here and there. As soon as Nehru joined the Cabinet and the sailing orders were stayed, the problem went away. In fact, some of the men have already come back. Shamefaced at not having been true to their salt.”
“I trust you made an example of them.”
“Good Lord, no. I gave them a severe talking-to, more in sorrow than in anger, you know, then sent them back to their platoon. Their own shame at having betrayed their salt will punish them worse than anything I could award. Their fellows will treat them as outcasts until they’ve redeemed themselves.”
“Well, you know best, I suppose. Still, we have to ask what do we do now?”
“What do you mean?” Garry was suddenly very suspicious and very careful.
“We owe it to the better people here in India to restore our relationship with London as quickly as possible. If that means installing a new Viceroy who knows and understands his duty, then so be it.”
Are you totally insane? Garry stared at Cardew in shock. Have you forgotten what happened the last time the Indian Army rose in mutiny? And you want to risk bringing that horror back? When he replied, he did so very slowly and very carefully.
“I do not think there is a legal mechanism for removing a Viceroy other than to have London recall him. And, if I understand the situation correctly, any such order from London would be considered invalid. I believe the Cabinet here holds that the government in exile sitting in Ottawa is the legitimate government of Great Britain. Is this not so? Now if we can get an order from them, replacing Marquess Linlithgow as Viceroy, you may be on to something.”